I've got to quit doing this, but this story just begs for songs. Here's another:

T W A  (Tune: M T A)

Now let me tell you of the story of ein Herr called Johann
On vacation down Rio way,
Put two boas in his backpack, stuffed his shorts with birds' eggs,
Tried to fly on TWA.

     But did he ever return?  Oh, no he never returned,
     'Cause at the Copa he got burned.
     He may rot forever in a cell in Rio,
     He's the smuggler who never returned.

Johann stuffed those snakes into his socks inside his sneakers
So they'd slumber peacefully.
Then he tucked away the twenty-one parrots in his t-shirts
And the eggs inside his BVD's.

     But did he ever return?  Oh, no he never returned,
     For it seems the worm has turned.
     He may rot forever in a cell in Rio,
     He's the smuggler who never returned.

Now all this beastly booty he had bought there in beautiful
Brazil, for just a paltry sum,
He thought he'd make out like a bandit when he sold them in Vienna--
Guess he thought Brazilian cops were dumb!

    But did he ever return?  Oh, no he never returned,
     And not a Euro did he earn!
     He may rot forever in a cell in Rio,
     He's the smuggler who never returned.

Now, sitting right there at the bar at the Copa,
With the budgie eggs in his shorts,
I'm afraid our hero's body temp'rature started rising
When he downed a couple quarts.

And those little baby budgies started hatchin' and a-chirpin'
As he headed for the taxi stand.
When his jockeys started burstin', and the parrots started cursin',
He was clearly carryin' contraband.

     So, did he ever return?  Oh, no he never returned,
     'Cause his boxers pulsed and churned.
     He may rot forever in a cell in Rio,
     He's the smuggler who never returned.

Johann's wife flies down to Rio de Janiero
Every year to try to set him free,
But they've charged him with those thirty-two counts of critter smuggling--
Not to mention bestiality!

    So has he ever returned?  Oh, no he never returned,
     So his wife just yearns and yearns.
     He may rot forever in a cell in Rio,
     He's the smuggler who never returned.

Now, you folks  who'd like to traffic in exotic beasties,
Just remember this sad smuggler's tale.
If you try to use your undies as a budgie incubator,
You may never get out of jail.

     And you'll never return, no, you'll never return,
    'Cause at customs you'll get burned.
     You may rot forever in a cell in Rio,
     Be the one who never returns.
 

© 2001 Jeanene Pratt